A Rebel's Redemption
by xoFeatherstonexo
Summary: 'She didn't regret getting involved with the wrong crowd. Out of all the memorable things that had happened in her life, that was the one she regretted the least. The only thing she regretted was getting caught.' When she's sent down to Earth with 99 other prisoners, Basil doesn't know if it's a death sentence or a blessing in disguise. Maybe it's a little bit of both. *BellamyxOC*
1. Chapter 1

I of course do not own _The 100_ or any of its characters.

 **One**

The steady hum of the ship's engine lulled her back into consciousness. It was a low and rumbling sound, a _familiar_ sound, which seemed to envelope her with an indescribable warmth. For a few moments she could almost pretend that she was back in her father's old mechanic shop on Mecha, working alongside him on one of the many broken machines that found their ways into his possession. Although she hadn't inherited the tinkering talent when she was surrounded by the sound of sputtering machinery and grinding gears, breathing in the scent of metal and fuel, and covered from head to toe in oil and grime, she'd never been happier.

But that was _before._

Reality hit her in the face like a dash of icy water, sending chills down her spine. The sounds that surrounded her -the whirring and humming of machinery, mixed with that of several overlapping voices- were entirely foreign. She wasn't back in the shop surrounded by the mechanics she'd grown up with. She wasn't listening to the sounds of her father's latest project coming to life. And she sure as hell wasn't anywhere close to home.

Dark eyes slowly fluttered open as consciousness took root in her body. It felt like a swarm of bees had invaded her body and were buzzing around in her head, jumbling up her thoughts and making it hard to focus on any one thing. Her vision was blurry, unfocused and she had to shut her eyes once more in order to gather her bearings. There was a dull throbbing in her temples which made it difficult to collect her thoughts. She took several deep breaths before opening her eyes again hesitantly.

Things slowly came into focus as her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. The first thing she realized was that she wasn't in a _room_ exactly, but rather a dropship. Larger than an escape pod, but smaller than an actual space station. And that meant that she was no longer in the Skybox. She had woken up that morning in her cell, but everything after that was foggy. She had no recollection of leaving, nor did she know just how she had come to be on the dropship, surrounded by dozens of other teens who were all echoing her concerns aloud.

She made to move, only to find herself jerked backwards and pressed into a seat. What the hell? Panicked, she looked down, noticing the harness for the first time. It was buckled around her chest, strapping her into one of the many straight-backed seats that lined the dropship's interior. Each and every seat around her was taken, holding a teenager who was strapped in similarly. Most of them were awake and talking amongst themselves, their voices a dull roar in the back of her mind. Others were still limp in their seats, blissfully oblivious.

Slender fingers twitched by her side and the girl spent a few moments clenching and unclenching her hands into fists. Her limbs felt heavy in the beginning, no doubt the result of a sedative wearing off. After a few moments she had regained control of her fingers and toes, which wiggled against the confines of her combat boots. Everything was in working order, which was a very good sign.

 _Now,_ she wondered to herself. _What's going on here_?

Memories of that morning slowly came back to her as the fuzziness in her mind began to ebb away bit by bit. She could remember waking up in the Skybox, the Ark's prison station, in the cell that had been her home for the last six months. Mercury had been visible through the skylight above her cot. The guards had come in early, earlier than she was used to, armed and accompanied by the last person she had wanted to see.

" _Prisoner 098, face the wall."_

" _Good morning to you, too." She said, chuckling bitterly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"_

 _She sat up on the bed and turned to face them, her piercing gaze narrowed defiantly as she looked at the three of them in turn. She was disappointed by who stood in the doorway of her cell, but a bemused sort smile crept onto her face._

" _Face the wall." Repeated the guard, a stocky young man that she'd never seen before. He must have been a new recruit._

" _I don't think I will." She stood up and lazily strolled towards the three of them. They didn't scare her, nor did any other authority figure. Not here, not now. They weren't anything more than glorified bullies who pushed around the weaker citizens of the Ark._

" _Now, prisoner." Repeated the older guard closest to her. He had dark skin and dark eyes, which were void of any emotion._

" _Prisoner?" She barked out a laugh. "Really, Dave? You've known me since I was thirteen years old."_

" _Basillissa." The smaller, distinctly female guard frowned at her pleadingly. "Please."_

 _She was thinner than the girl, Basillissa, remembered. Her hair was longer, grey intertwining with the inky locks that were pulled away from her face and coiled into a tight knot at the base of her neck. There were worry lines on the older woman's face, the faintest trace of crow's feet around her eyes._

" _Mom." Basillissa greeted coolly. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Is it time for my execution already?"_

 _Her mother winced._

" _Basillissa." The dark-skinned guard, Dave, gentled his voice. "It's just protocol."_

" _You mightn't have noticed, Dave, but I don't give a_ damn _about protocol."_

 _She'd always had a defiant streak. A lot of the teenagers on the Ark did, especially those from the lower class stations. And while Basillissa lived on Alpha -the unofficially leading station- she'd never fit in with the well-bred Arkians that lived there. She preferred the hard working lifestyle to that of the pampered. Her mother had been from Alpha, her father from Mecha, and Basillissa had always favored the latter. Maybe that's why she'd strived so hard to prove herself. Maybe that's why she had ended up in the Skybox._

 _Even in the face of her inevitable death, she couldn't bring herself to plead. She couldn't bring herself to fear them. She knew what was going to happen next. She had heard countless prisoners get dragged out of their cells and down the hallway leading to the airlock, which had been nicknamed 'death row' by the other inmates. There was no changing her fate. What would be the point of giving them the satisfaction of finally submitting?_

 _The younger guard's hand twitched towards his shock baton. Dave, officially known as Chief Miller, reached out and cut him off. He shook his head slightly before turning his attention back towards Basillissa, who was watching all of them with a look of boredom. An ill disguised attempt to hide her curiosity._

" _Don't make this harder than it has to be." Said Dave._

" _I must have gotten my days mixed up." Basillissa said, as if she hadn't heard him. "I was under the impression that my birthday wasn't for a few more weeks."_

" _It's not." Her mother said. "You're still seventeen."_

" _Then the laws have changed?"_

" _No." Dave shook his head. "The laws are still in effect."_

" _I see." She nodded slowly, thoughtful. "Then I'm going to have to ask you to leave."_

 _She barely noticed it, the slight incline of the chief's head. One moment they were all standing there and in the next the younger guard had lurched forward to grab her by the arm. There was a sharp clanking sound of metal on metal as he clasped a bracelet around her wrist. It wasn't a normal bracelet; it had receptors that buried themselves into the flesh on her arm._

" _Ow! What the hell?" She complained, yanking her arm back towards her body. There was a searing pain where the bracelet cut into her skin. She eyed it suspiciously. For the first time fear began to creep slowly along her spine. "What is this?"_

" _You need to dress." Her mother shoved a pile of folded clothes into her arms. Basillissa was surprised to see that they were clothes taken from her very own closet. "Quickly."_

" _Why?" She asked, not able to put the pieces together._

" _You can dress yourself or we can do it for you." Snapped the younger guard, who was looking anxiously at his watch. "Your choice."_

 _She'd gotten dressed, reluctantly, in a pair of jeans and a grey tank top. They'd given her a floral-and-camo-print army jacket to pull on over it, and a pair of black combat boots._

" _Now are you going to tell me what the hell is going on here?" She asked, zipping up the front of the jacket. "Am I being floated or not?"_

" _Not."_

 _That definitely wasn't the answer she had been expecting. Everyone knew that once a person turned eighteen on the Ark, they were held accountable for their crimes. Violation of any of the laws meant execution. If the Chancellor had to bend a few laws and murder a few seventeen year olds, she wouldn't have put it past him. Were they lying to her, or was she really not going to be floated earlier than planned?_

" _I…I don't understand."_

" _Earth." Said the younger guard. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, easily concealable object. It was a syringe, filled with an amber-colored liquid. "You're going to Earth."_

 _There was a sharp prick as the needle was embedded in her neck. The liquid slowly flowed through the tube and into her neck. It immediately began to take effect, causing her eyes to droop and her body to feel awkward and heavy. Her knees buckled and she fell forward, into the waiting arms of one of the guards._

 _She couldn't be certain, but she thought she heard her mother's voice saying 'I love you' for the last time._

Once more Basillissa shifted in her seat. Her hands came around to the front and began to fumble with the bulky buckle at her chest. Her fingers felt numb, as if she weren't quite in control of them yet, and it took a few tries before she could grip the harness correctly. She wasn't thinking of anything other than getting out of the ship. She couldn't leave. As much as she hated the Ark, there was one person she cared for on it; her father. Leaving without saying goodbye to him wasn't an option.

If only she could get out of the dropship…then she could find a vent, and make her way through the system. She'd spent far too many years using the ventilation system to her advantage not to put those skills to good use if she could. Six months in the slammer hadn't altered her memory; she still knew the route like the back of her hand.

Why wasn't the damn buckle loosening?

Just as she made to undo the restraints, an arm shot out and stopped her.

"Don't." Warned the girl to her right in a soft but serious tone, her grip tightening. "They've got guards stationed at every exit."

Surprised, Basillissa looked up at the female questioningly. She was a lanky thing, with big hazel eyes and dark hair that fell in waves down her back. Although she looked decidedly nervous -and frankly a little pissed off- there was a firmness in her gaze that actually made the girl reconsider and drop her hands from the buckle.

Upon further inspection of her surroundings, she realized that there _were_ guards stationed at every exit. They were all armed, of course, not only with the standard shock batons, but with guns holstered at their hips. Whatever was going on was important, and standing off with the guards right now wouldn't be a good idea.

She turned her attention back to the dark haired girl and said, "What's your name?"

"Octavia." Said the girl. "Octavia Blake."

 _Octavia Blake, the girl they found living under the floors._

The words came to her mind as if on reflex. Aurora Blake, a woman Basillissa vaguely knew from spending her days wandering throughout the stations, had given birth to a _second child_. Having more than one child on the Ark was strictly against the rules and for breaking those rules, she'd been floated. No one knew how Octavia had managed to survive seventeen years under the floorboards of their little factory station apartment, but they'd arrested her for it without hesitation. It was such a rare occurrence that very few people didn't know the story.

"And who are you?" Octavia asked, her tone almost accusatory as she watched Basillissa with narrowed eyes, as if she could somehow guess exactly what the other girl was thinking about.

"Uh…"

She didn't think that the appropriate response would be, _hi my name's Basillissa Vincetti, renowned fugitive guilty of both thievery and treason. It's nice to meet you._

Then again, they were all convicts here, weren't they?

"Is that a hard one?" Those hazel eyes narrowed bemusedly. "You need a minute?"

"Basil. My name's Basil." She said finally, offering a smile that was rusty at best and a grimace at worst.

"Nice to meet you, Basil." Said Octavia with a wry smile. "Now sit back and get comfortable, because none of us is getting off of this ship alive."

"So it's true." Basil swallowed thickly. "They're sending us to Earth."

"That's what they say."

"And you're okay with this?"

"Better than being stuck here." Octavia shrugged.

"Yeah, but Earth is inhabitable." Basil pointed out with a frown. "The radiation will kill us."

"As far as I see it, we're already dead." Octavia shrugged once more. "Living on borrowed time. Either we rot in our cells until our eighteenth birthdays and get floated, or we go down to Earth and try to salvage what's left of our miserable lives."

"Who's to say we'll even survive the landing?" Challenged Basil, more because she wanted to hear what the girl had to say than because she actually cared about having a debate. Octavia was right; either way they were pretty screwed. "And if we do, who's to say we'll survive even one day on the ground?"

"Who cares about surviving?" Octavia flashed her a wicked grin. "I wanna _live._ "

Before Basil could think of a satisfactory retort, the engine was suddenly roaring. The doors had been sealed off and the dropship was getting ready to depart. The floor beneath their feet began to vibrate, and several of the others cried out in either fear or excitement. They all felt the small drop as the ship was released into space.

Suddenly, the big screen on the other side of the dropship suddenly came to life. Roughly the size of a small television, the screen showed their chancellor, Chancellor Jaha, sitting at a table.

" _Prisoners of The Ark, hear me now."_ Said the Chancellor in his quiet, but firm voice. _"You've been given a second chance, and as your Chancellor, it is my hope that you see this as not just a chance for you, but a chance for all of us, indeed for mankind itself."_

Basil had to bite her tongue to keep from calling out, as some of the other prisoners were. It was no secret that she had never cared for the Chancellor. Not many people did. She didn't agree with the way life was run on the Ark, as she had proven by getting arrested for treason. Any society that could murder innocent people for crimes as insignificant as those on the Ark was a society that she would never have respect for.

" _We have no idea what is waiting for you down there. If the odds of survival were better, we would've sent others. Frankly, we're sending you because your crimes have made you expendable."_

Expendable. Had her skin not been so tough, Basil might have been offended by this remark. It was strange to think that one hundred _children_ could be expendable. And they were children, ranging in age from maybe thirteen years old to seventeen years old. They were being sent by the _government_ to a planet that might very well be full of toxic radiation. In what world was any of this deemed acceptable?

"What an asshole." Muttered Octavia, rolling her eyes.

"He _would_ make it sound like some sort of privilege." Agreed Basil with a frown. "'You've been given a second chance.' We weren't even given a _choice._ "

" _Your crimes will be forgiven, your records wiped clean._ "

These words caught Basil's attention and for the first time she felt the slightest glimmer of hope. In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but to ask, _what if_? What if they did somehow make it down to Earth? What if they did survive? What if the rest of the Ark joined them? What if they were pardoned and were able to reunite with their families?

 _We'd be free,_ she realized.

The thought was completely foreign to her. Basil couldn't recall a time in her life when she had ever been truly _free._ From the moment she was born she'd been held to a certain standard, not only from the Ark but from her family as well. Everyone expected her to be this perfect little prodigy, the daughter of a well-respected engineer and a high-ranking policewoman. They'd wanted her to go to school and get recruited for Medical or Go-Sci, two of the best fields on the Ark. They pushed and they pushed and they pushed her, until she was interning for Doctor Griffin, the Ark's go-to doctor. And then they pushed her some more.

Basil didn't know why she was drawn to stealing. Maybe because it was something she could control, a small act of defiance that no one would have expected from her. And in the beginning it was innocent enough. She would take an old medical book from the library and conveniently forget to return it, or she'd 'borrow' some of the tools from the shop and stash them away beneath her bed, never to be seen again. It started out with small things, things easily replaceable that no one would ever miss.

Over the course of several years she'd gotten roped into working for the black market after trying to sell a handful of painkillers she'd taken from the lab. Nygel, the ringleader of the organization, always had work that needed to be done. It started off as small-scale jobs, collecting odds and end pieces from Mecha or Factory Station. As Basil proved herself worthy, her work load increased until she was in over her head with no way -and no desire- to get out. Eventually Nygel was sending her all over the Ark, into rooms only accessible by the ventilation systems or locked down with special key codes that she had to pick from the pockets of her parents' friends. Basil was the go-to girl when they needed someone stealthy and with a taste for trouble.

She didn't regret getting involved with the wrong crowd. Out of all the memorable things in her life, that was the one she regretted the least. She had _loved_ working under the table. She'd felt like some sort of super-secret agent, climbing in and out of the vents, picking peoples' pockets, and making sketchy trades in dark corners of the common rooms. Finally, she'd found something she was good at; thievery. And she'd gained a lot of friends in low places, as well as a lot of respect, during those days. The only thing she regretted was getting caught. Nygel couldn't be trusted and Basil had known this going into things. Her parents had always warned her about getting involved with people like that. But somehow she never thought that she would be double-crossed. She was Nygel's right-hand woman, she should have been safer than the rest of them. She had been arrogant, she'd thought herself too important to be let go. And that arrogance had been her downfall.

She'd never been free before, to do what she wanted when she wanted. The thought was as terrifying as it was tempting.

" _The drop site has been chosen carefully. Before the last war, Mount Weather was a military base built within a mountain. It was to be stocked with enough non-perishables to sustain 300 people for up to two years."_

The Chancellor was at it again, but he wasn't the one that pulled Basil away from her thoughts. Her attention was caught by a shaggy-haired male who had unbuckled his harness and was floating along one of the rows of seats. Apparently they were in zero-gravity, because he effortlessly lay suspended in midair, grinning as he was showered with catcalls and compliments from the other passengers.

 _Finn Collins,_ she suddenly realized, as she listened to the conversation taking place just a few feet away from her. _Spacewalker,_ they called him. He was the one who had gotten arrested for going on an unauthorized spacewalk. It had burned up a whole month's worth of oxygen. Basil remembered because his girlfriend, Raven, occasionally did jobs for Nygel when she was in a bind.

You learned quite a bit of information when you were involved with the right -or wrong- sort of people.

And the girl, the blonde, was Clarke Griffin. She was the daughter of the doctor that Basil had been interning with. In fact, the two of them had been interning together. Their conversations had never really gone farther than the appropriate dosage of medicine, but from what Basil could remember the girl had seemed really driven to be a doctor. Right up until she had been arrested for treason and thrown into solitary confinement only six months before Basil was.

And then there was Wells Jaha, who _everyone_ knew. He was the son of the Chancellor. And if the title wasn't enough to make people hate him, the similarities between himself and his father was _more_ than enough. He had the same mocha-colored skin tone and the same warm, brown eyes as the Chancellor. They had the same facial expressions, the same mannerisms. Basil had met the Jahas on several occasions, all of which had left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Survival of the fittest." Said Octavia, with a small frown.

"Huh?"

"They're already being picked off." She nodded towards several other boys who had climbed out of their seats after Finn. "As soon as that gravity kicks in…"

She didn't need to finish her sentence for Basil to catch the meaning behind it.

"Hey, why don't you-"

She didn't get the chance to finish her suggestion before suddenly the dropship was plunging through space at an alarming rate. She was thrown forward, stopped only by the harness around her chest. With a sickening crack the ship lurched, and Basil had a nagging suspicion that the autopilot was no longer in control. All around them things began to creak and groan. Sparks started to fly, the result of metal on metal, and it suddenly seemed as if the whole dropship was crumbling around them.

"It's okay!" Someone called out. It might have been Wells. "It's just the Earth's atmosphere!"

That did nothing to calm the nerves of the other prisoners. Some of them were already shouting, but the real screaming began when the electricity cut out. The whole ship was plunged into total darkness, the only source of light coming from the sporadic sparks that fell from the creases where the ship was welded together. The chaos surrounding them only seemed to fuel the panic inside of the prisoners, and their voices grew louder and louder as the ship was hurtled through space.

Basil shut her eyes tight. There was something comforting about this new sort of darkness, considering it was on her terms. It made her feel less helpless than she had before, even though she was in the exact same situation.

She wouldn't have been surprised if the ship did fall to pieces around them. It was nearly a century old, after all. And the condition of the Earth's atmosphere was completely unpredictable after so many years. Her earlier fears about not surviving the landing came back to mind, and Basil clung tighter to the harness around her chest. As much as she liked to seem unaffected by the matter of life and death, she didn't _want_ to die. No one wanted to die. She'd just grown so used to the idea that back on the Ark, she thought she was ready to accept her fate.

Now, she wasn't so sure.

"It's just an old ship!" Came Clarke's voice. "Give it a minute."

Almost as soon as she said that, the lights came back on. They only lasted for a few moments before they began to flicker rapidly, sending out bright spurts of light before plunging them all into darkness again. Basil could just barely make out the tight-lipped expression on Octavia's pale face. When she turned her head to the other side, the seat there was empty. The boy had been one of the ones who tried to follow Finn, only he hadn't made it back into his harness before they hit the Earth's atmosphere.

 _Survival of the fittest._

Suddenly something shifted, and they began to slow. Basil heard murmurs about parachutes deploying, and she guessed that was the cause. They were still falling, just at a slightly slower pace than they had been before. The ship seemed to settle some, stopping its swaying motion, but Basil knew that no one was controlling it anymore. This was gravity taking its toll and now the ship was going to fall wherever science wanted it to fall.

The next few minutes were agonizingly slow. The screams subsided and an eerie silence, interrupted only by the occasional whimper, fell over the crowd. Basil knew that they were all wondering whether or not these moments were going to be their last. If they were, she hoped the death would be quick. At least when a person got floated their deaths happened instantaneously. Dying on impact was preferable to slowly bleeding out in the ruins of a wrecked dropship. Or maybe the radiation would get to them first.

She supposed it didn't really matter, though, because as Octavia said, they were all living on borrowed time anyways.

Just when Basil began to wonder if they were going to spend the rest of their short lives tumbling through space, the dropship came to a sudden stop. There was a muted thudding noise as the base of the ship landed, and then all was still. A few tense moments were spent in silence as they all tried to figure out whether or not they were still alive. And then, the silence was broken by the sound of dozens of seatbelts clicking furiously.

Basil's hands went to her harness and this time she felt entirely in control of her body. She undid the straps with little difficulty and then rose into a standing position. She wobbled slightly, and had the oddest sensation of feeling seasick. Her stomach lurched unpleasantly and her knees buckled, causing the girl to sit down in her seat once more.

"You alright?" Octavia was undoing her own straps and looking over at Basil curiously.

"Yeah." She nodded and took a deep breath. "Rough landing, eh?"

"But we made it."

Octavia stood up and then, after a moment of contemplation, extended her hand. Basil looked up at her with furrowed brows. What was this, an act of friendship? Or did she think Basil was too weak to make it out of the ship on her own? She had half a mind to decline the offer, but after a second thought she took the outstretched hand and pulled herself to her feet.

"Thanks."

Octavia said nothing as she dropped Basil's hand and then began to make her way towards the ladder that led to the lower floor. There was a small crowd that had gathered around the hatch separating the two floors. Octavia and Basil took up the rear of the group, having been seated in the chairs that were the furthest away.

When Basil glanced over her shoulder, she had to stifle a gasp. Laying in a pool of blood was one of the young guys who had climbed out of their seats before the gravity kicked in. He'd hit his head on the side of the ship, and lay at an awkward angle, draped across a few of the empty seats. Basil didn't have to question whether or not he was alive, because there was no way anyone could have survived that drop unless they were safely strapped in.

For a moment, she thought about telling someone, thought about calling for help. But what was the point? The guy was dead and she didn't think he was the only one. There was nothing they could do to help him now. It was the first time she'd ever seen a real dead body. People died every day on the Ark, but their bodies were always released into space, never to be seen again. She was surprised by how sympathetic she felt. Life and death had never meant anything on the Ark, after all. But she thought that maybe it should mean something on the ground.

What would they do with the bodies? She'd read in a book that people used to bury their dead, as a sign of respect or something. Maybe that's what they would wind up doing with the ones who hadn't made it to the ground. Bury them, mark their graves, and start living like the people who walked the Earth before them.

"You coming?" Octavia had begun to descend the ladder, and was watching Basil curiously.

"Yeah."

Basil moved forward and began to slowly climb down the ladder. The dead boy was still fresh in her mind, haunting her thoughts. If only he had kept his harness on. Then he wouldn't have died, and they would still be the one hundred, not the ninety-nine. Or the ninety-eight; she didn't know how many people had followed in Finn's misguided footsteps.

It was strange the effect the ground was already having on her. She didn't want things to be like they had been, up on the Ark. She didn't want to live in constant fear, nor did she want to be ruled by an unjust government. Then again, she'd never wanted those things…maybe the ground wasn't changing her. Maybe it was just shedding a ray of hope on changes that had been needing to take place for years.

When she finally came to the base of the ladder, Basil found herself greeted by an argument that dragged her out of her thoughts. Clarke Griffin was facing off with a tall, dark-haired stranger who was wearing a guard's uniform. They were talking about opening the doors, and whether or not it was a good idea. Immediately Basil tensed, wondering how and why a guard had remained on the dropship after their departure, and how this was going to affect their lives on the ground.

"Bellamy?"

Octavia was staring at the stranger with wide eyes. After a few brief moments of standing in shock, she took off at a run. The stranger, looking not quite as surprised as he was relieved, caught her in a tight embrace. It only took a few moments for Basil to piece things together, but she had always been quick on her feet. The similarities between the two of them were striking; there was only one conclusion.

"Look how big you've gotten." The man, Bellamy, said quietly, stroking his thumb across her cheek in an intimate gesture that sent a pang of longing through Basil.

"Do you mind?" Octavia asked, glaring at those who tried to crowd around them. "I haven't seen my brother in over a year."

Shouts rang out as everyone else finally figured out who she was. _That's Octavia Blake, the girl they found under the floors!_ People were murmuring among themselves and crowding closer, trying to get a good look at her and Bellamy. Siblings were a rarity that none of them had ever seen before. Naturally, they were curious.

Octavia seemed outraged by the reminder of her arrest. She went to lunge for the crowd, but her brother pulled her back quickly. Silent, Octavia glowered at the boys in the front of the group. There was an unspoken threat in her gaze which said that they were lucky she was being restrained.

"Let's give them something else to remember you by." Suggested Bellamy, his grip on his sister tightening slightly as he pulled her away from the rest of them.

"Like what?" She grumbled, looking unimpressed and almost petulant.

"Like being the first person on the ground in a hundred years."

And without warning, he pulled the lever that opened the door to the dropship.


	2. Chapter 2

_Anyone who has already read the first two chapters will realize that this chapter has been_ _ **greatly**_ _revised. Over the last few months I've had limited internet access, but that hasn't stopped me from getting to know Basil very, very well. The more I learned about her, the more I realized that the major change in this chapter had to take place. And luckily I'm still early enough into the story that the plotline has not been majorly affected._

 _Chapter three soon to come._

 **Two**

Basil held her breath as the door was slowly lowered. The room around her was silent, disturbed only by the faint whirring sound of gears turning. Time seemed to slow down as the metal door descended at a pace that could only be described as painstakingly slow, especially to those who had dreamed about this day their whole lives.

They stood crowded around the entrance, packed together as tightly as humanly possible. Bellamy and Octavia were at the front of the group, with Basil just a few steps behind, nestled among a row of eager prisoners whom were all striving to get a closer look. In many places the members of their group overlapped, trodding on one another's toes and fighting for places near the front of the crowd. And yet no one complained, because in that moment they couldn't be bothered with something as insignificant as lack of personal space when they were faced with something as monumental as _Earth._

You could have cut the tension in the air with a butter knife, it was that thick. The ninety-something prisoners watched and they waited anxiously, none of them knowing exactly what to expect from the long-deserted planet that their ancestors had fled from in the wake of nuclear war so many years prior. They had all grown up learning and reading books about life on Earth, but it had done nothing to prepare them for this moment. It had always been the common dream of the people on the Ark to one day return to the planet that they were meant to call home, but somehow it had always seemed like nothing more than a pipe dream.

No one dared to utter a single word for fear of ruining the moment.

When the door finally hit the ground with a soft _thud_ , Basil was rendered speechless for the first time in her life. Slack-jawed, she took an involuntary step forward and suddenly found herself standing in a patch of sunlight. _Sunlight._ She could feel it on her face, basking her skin in its warm glow. It was unlike anything she'd ever felt before. In that moment, she half wondered if this was some sort of sick dream that her sub consciousness had created, and she was really lying asleep in her cell on the Ark.

 _No,_ she thought, after delivering a sharp and painful pinch to the flesh on her arm. _This is real._

As promised, Octavia was the first one on the ground in nearly a century. The raven-haired girl took a few hesitant steps forward, towards the edge of the door, which served as sort of a ramp into the ship. No one spoke, no one dared to even breathe, as they watched her. With slightly bent knees she stepped off of the platform, landing easily on the tips of her toes. There were a few moments of silence and then Octavia threw both hands in the air triumphantly.

" _We're back, bitches_!"

It was as if they had all planned it, as if those words were their cue. With a loud, resonating shout, the crowd filed out of the dropship in a record amount of time. They ran and they laughed and they shoved one another in their race to get out and discover this strange, new planet. They filed out in a thick stream before branching off in various directions and running through the wooded area that they found themselves in.

They were finally _home._

Basil was among some of the last prisoners to exit the dropship despite being at the head of the crowd. She'd stood stock still in the center of the archway, allowing the rest of them to push their way past her in their hurry. It wasn't that she didn't feel as excited or eager as the rest of them; she did. But Basil didn't want to rush through this experience. She wanted to savor every last moment, wanted to remember even the smallest of details, hopefully for years to come. This was something that she wanted to do alone.

It wasn't until the last few people had run off into the woods that she finally stepped off of the ship. The ground beneath her feet was soft, almost squishy, and her boots sank into it slightly with every step she took. She had seen soil before, but never like this. This wasn't the dusty, ill-colored mulch that was used and recycled on the Ark. This was the _real_ stuff. Nothing on the ground was synthetic, none of it had ever been reused or packed away tightly in air-locked rooms in order to be preserved. It was all real.

"Wow." The word left her lips as a breathy sort of sigh, an awed and content sound.

Her dark gaze trailed slowly across the field that they had landed in. Her eyes were assaulted by hues of browns and greens that she'd never even seen before. There were trees, all of them tall and with bases as thick around as at least two of her put together. From their branches hung leaves, _real_ leaves, which swayed happily in the slight breeze. On the ground there was overgrown vegetation that had overtaken everything in its path, including large rocks and fallen logs. Sporadic bursts of wildflowers filled the field with color; vibrant shades of purple and pink and red and yellow. Everything in the forest was positively thriving.

Basil still found it hard to believe that any of this was real. Could she really have been a prisoner, locked up in her cell just that very morning? It hardly seemed imaginable, now that she was on the ground. For as long as she could remember, she had dreamt of coming to Earth. It was something that they all thought about, but none of them had ever believed that it would actually happen. They had heard stories of the horrors that plagued Earth not even a century ago. None of them thought that it would be possible to return to the mother planet so soon.

And yet, here they were, alive and well.

She couldn't stop herself from bending down and reaching out, her fingers grazing the topsoil hesitantly. It was cool to the touch and soft, almost silky even. Basil dug her fingers in deeply and pulled up a handful of the dark brown substance. She watched in fascination as it slowly filtered through the spaces between her fingers, returning to the Earth and leaving a small trail of rocky residue in its wake.

Suddenly, Basil was filled with a sort of giddy excitement that she hadn't felt in a long, long time. She realized that for the first time in her life she was free; truly free, miles and miles away from the oppressive chains that had bound her on the Ark. There was no one to answer to, there were no strict guideline to follow, there wasn't any sort of consequence for her actions, and for the first time in her life she felt totally, blissfully _lost_ , without a clue -or a care in the world- as to what came next.

Life on Earth was already immensely better than life on the Ark. Basil couldn't even begin to describe the feeling of liberation that coursed through her veins. Who knew that thievery and treason would wind up getting her so far in life? There would be no more days of sneaking around in the ventilation systems and putting her sticky fingers to good use -two things that she had actually enjoyed on the Ark, but upon reflection realized were not very good habits- and no more days of rotting away in her cell, counting the days to Visitation.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

Standing a few feet in front of her, flanked on either side by half a dozen boys, was Bellamy Blake. Gone was his guard's outfit -replaced by a simple grey teeshirt and jeans- and he now wore a wicked sort of smirk. That, paired with the glint in his eyes, made Basil's skin tingle.

There was a tension in the air amongst their small group that made the hair on the back of her neck stand straight up. They looked like freaking _hitmen_ , standing there in various defensive poses with their arms crossed over their puffed out chests. And their ringleader looked more threatening than any of them, with his knowing little smirk.

 _What is this, an ambush_? Her gaze scanned over each one of his cronies in turn as the thought flittered through her mind, and Basil's stomach churned unpleasantly.

She felt oddly like a lost gazelle about to stroll into the lion's den.

Seven fully grown men against her, a slip of a girl with long, gangly limbs and a bark that was worse than her bite. The odds were definitely _not_ in Basil's favor. And yet she drew in a deep breath, raising her chin defiantly as she looked up into a pair of dark eyes.

Confidence was key, after all.

"The freedom, I mean. It feels good." Repeated Bellamy, offering her a smile that wasn't as warm as it was predatory.

Basil stared up at him blankly, brown eyes fluttering.

"Right?" Bellamy pressed.

"I suppose." She replied slowly, unsure of how she wanted to proceed. Treading lightly seemed like the best option, given the fact that she didn't know exactly what the meaning was behind this impromptu get-together.

The man's brows furrowed, as if he hadn't been expecting that to be her answer. "You suppose?"

"I suppose." She repeated herself, fingers digging even further into the dirk, the dark substance caking under her fingernails. "I mean, it's been all of what? Ten minutes? Twenty?"

She'd lost count of the minutes, too wrapped up in all that was Earth to be bothered with something as trivial as a concept of time. All Basil knew was that she'd been staring out at the clearing for what felt like an eternity and a millisecond all at the same time.

"Give or take." He chuckled to himself, giving a small nod. "Most of us didn't need that long to adjust. Then again, most of us aren't used to living in the lap of luxury, either."

 _Abort, abort, abort,_ a voice in the back of Basil's mind screamed. A warning, but not one for the outnumbered girl; one for the arrogant man standing in front of her.

"What do you _want_ , Bellamy?" Basil demanded, eyes narrowing as she bristled at the snub.

Basil had been called many things in her short lifetime, and would be called many more before the end. After years of working in her line of work, she'd developed thick skin. Insults were meaningless and they bounced off of her as easily as anything else. But to insinuate that she was one of _them_ , one of the privileged…that wasn't something that Basil took so lightly, not after how hard she'd worked to create the distinction between herself and the rest of those who lived on Alpha Station.

"Just a chat." He shrugged lazily, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he'd struck a nerve. Either that or he didn't care. "See how you're getting along."

"That's what this is, then?" Basil asked, her 'tread lightly' idea going out the window completely as she climbed slowly to her feet. "The welcoming committee?"

Bellamy nodded, that smug look still plastered across his face. "Something like that." He allowed, giving yet another careless shrug.

"Sorry, but I'm not interested in joining your little…cult." She responded slowly, giving him a look that clearly said she felt this 'little chat' was a waste of her time.

She would have _much_ rather been studying the trees than studying the way the corner of Bellamy Blake's mouth quirked when he was amused.

"You sure about that?" He gave her a knowing look, eyebrows raised slightly as if he expected his offer was far too good to turn down. "Once in a lifetime chance, you know."

Basil hesitated then, his words echoing in her ears. She hadn't honestly thought that he wanted her to join his group; that had just been her way of kindly telling him to piss off. Instead of harassing her, as she'd expected in the first place, he'd come to _recruit_ her.

"Wait…you want me in your group?" Basil rose her eyebrows in response, too surprised at the request to do much besides stare at him with her mouth gaping like a fish for a solid thirty seconds. "Seriously?"

 _Smooth, Baze,_ she thought, pulling herself together once more. _Amateur mistake. Never seem over-eager._

"I do." Bellamy didn't seem to be bothered by her gawking. If anything, he almost looked as if that was the reaction he'd been hoping for.

That's what she was afraid of.

" _Why_?" Asked Basil, once she had collected herself. "You don't know me."

"I don't…but I've _heard_ a lot about you, Vincetti."

She sucked in a sharp breath, hazel eyes widening a fraction.

 _Oh, fuck._

There was a part of Basil that always had been and always would be proud of her reputation, proud that she had done something significant enough to put herself on the radar. She hadn't spent all of those years making a name for herself just to have it be off the record and kept quiet by the people of the Ark. Another part of her was worried, maybe even a little fearful, about what a name like hers could mean on Earth. Basil hadn't just made friends; she'd made a lot of enemies, too. She didn't want anyone having a preconceived notion about who she was as a person based simply on the things that she'd done on the Ark.

She wasn't a thief. Well, she _was_ in the technical sense, but unlike most thieves she didn't have sticky fingers. Maybe in the beginning, when it all started and simply because it was thrilling, but not after that. She'd always stolen for others, never for herself, never _just because._ It wasn't some sort of guilty pleasure that she had, not anymore. And she wasn't treasonous, not really. She questioned authority. Challenged it, when the occasion arose. But she had no desire to overthrow the ruling class and create her own empire.

Looks could be deceiving, but reputations even more-so.

How the hell did he know who she was, anyways? It wasn't like she went around broadcasting it. She didn't even use her full name for fear of drawing unwanted attention to herself. And yet, Bellamy Blake swaggered up to her all sure of himself and spitting out her name as if he'd known her for years.

"So, you know my name." Basil continued after a few moments, raising her chin slightly. "What about it?"

"They say you're smart. Stealthy." Bellamy said simply. "I could use someone like that."

The things he said were true. Basil had always been smart, not in the bookworm sort of way, although she hadn't done too badly in that department either. She'd always known when to observe and when to act. She knew when to speak and when to remain silent. She didn't just hear, she _listened_ , and she used the things she learned to her advantage. As for stealthy…she'd spent the better part of three years' operating out of a ventilation system and no one was the wiser. It was true; Bellamy Blake _could_ use someone like her. But Basil didn't see how she could really use him or his friendship, if that's what they were calling it.

"I'm listening."

"Someone's gotta take charge down here, right?" Bellamy's question was rhetorical, as if the answer should have been so obvious that it didn't require verbal confirmation. "And I'm up for the task."

It took everything in her not to laugh right in his arrogant, pretty-boy face. She'd spent her entire life caught in the web that was the power struggle on the Ark. She'd seen the rise and fall of so many leaders that she'd lost count. And none of them had been cocky, bull-headed boys of barely twenty-something years old with no experience under their belt. What Bellamy desired, a taste of power, was only natural. To be expected, even, after the life they'd all lived on the Ark. But to actually try and reign in dozens of rowdy, teenage _convicts_ all on his own?

That was insanity.

"Still not seeing how I fit into all of this." Said Basil after a moment's hesitation, her voice trailing off slightly. She truly _was_ puzzled as to how he thought she would fit into this, and _why_ he even wanted her on his side in the first place.

She knew better than to ruffle his feathers by mentioning the obvious; that he definitely could _not_ handle all of this, even on his best day and even with her help. No, she didn't need a pissed off Bellamy Blake. Not yet, not until she had the full story. Then she would let him down gently…or not so gently. The snub about her status on the Ark was still floating in the back of her mind.

"I need people. Power in numbers." He elaborated. "You're smart, and I'd guess you could probably help my cause by swaying the undecided vote. I need more than brute force; I need brains. And a little bit of beauty wouldn't hurt, either."

"I'm very flattered, Mr. Blake." Sarcasm dripped from every word. It was time for her big girl voice, her negotiation voice, her ' _I-mean-business_ ' voice. "But you see, there's nothing in this little arrangement for _me_."

Bellamy raised his eyebrows at her, once more receiving an answer that he didn't expect. What, had he thought she would just fall down on her knees and thank him for the opportunity? Basil had learned a long time ago that the only person she had to look out for was herself. If there was nothing in the deal for her, what was the point? Even if there _was_ something in it for her, why did he think she'd want to play any part in his mad quest for power?

Like she'd already realized, it was _insanity._

"What do you want?" Now Bellamy was the guarded one, the glint in his brown gaze more steel than seduction.

"What do you _have_?" She retorted, feeling secure for the first time since he'd approached her. This was what she knew, this was what she did best. She knew how to work people, knew how to get what she wanted.

"Protection." Bellamy nodded towards the guys on either side of him. They all stared menacingly at Basil, as if to unnerve her. She would have sworn one of them even cracked his knuckles. But it didn't work. "No one will even think to mess with you."

"As promising as that sounds, I can take care of myself, thanks." Basil gave an unimpressed sideways glance towards the group of men, lips quirking slightly in an arrogant sort of smile that she'd long ago perfected.

"Even against a hundred convicted criminals?" Pressed Bellamy, with raised brows.

"Are you forgetting that I am also a convicted criminal?" Basil retorted, arching a brow of her own in question. "And here I was all sorts of flattered, thinking you'd caught wind of my reputation. Next offer."

"Power, then." He said curtly. There was an edge in his voice that told Basil he knew he was being worked over better than a dimestore hooker, and it was obvious that he didn't find the idea appealing. "It's time the underdogs ruled the roost."

"I'm not really 'leader' material, actually…"

Lies. So many lies leaking from her mouth, and yet Basil knew that if she _did_ accept Bellamy's offer -which she wasn't banking on- all of the above would be the 'perks' she got in return. What she really wanted was to know the extent of what Bellamy Blake had to offer her, and then she would decide whether or not it was worth her time.

"Fine." Bellamy huffed and his jaw was clenched tightly. She knew she was getting closer and closer to cracking him. "Supplies."

"Supplies?" Basil raised her eyebrows once more, now genuinely interested in hearing what he had to say. No one had ever said anything about supplies being sent down with them. This changed the game entirely. "What sort of supplies?"

Bellamy smirked.

He thought that he had her right where he wanted her, no doubt. The truth was that Basil had no intention of striking some sort of deal with him unless she got everything -and she did mean _everything_ \- that she wanted. And even then there was still a huge 'if factor.' Guys like Bellamy were all the same. Bullies who thought that they could push people around or beat them into submission or buy their loyalties. He'd shown that when he had come to her not alone, but with an army of cronies at his disposal and promising all sorts of goodies in exchange for her service. He was exactly the type of 'leader' that she'd spent the majority of her life rebelling against. And yet, Basil had also spent her whole life working the system. She knew how to play her hand and bide her time. Knew how to make sure that the end justified the means.

Did he?

"What don't we have? Nutrition packets, aluminum water bottles, first aid supplies, tents, clothing, odds and ends…" Bellamy shrugged that damning shrug again. "Just about everything we need to last us."

"Someone made out like a bandit." Basil said, slightly impressed by the Ark's consideration. It was probably all the 'expendable' supplies, to be sent down with the expendable people. And yet, it did sound like more than enough to start them off.

" _You_ could be making out like a bandit." Bellamy insisted. "All you have to do is join us."

"I'm a pretty good bandit all on my own." This time the smirk on her face was genuine, one she felt all the way to her very core. "Although I'm sure you already know that."

"So I'd heard." Bellamy nodded. "You can understand why I'd want you on my side, then."

"I can." Basil said, with a slight nod of her own. "I'm sure I would be an extremely valuable asset in your game."

But would he be one in hers?

It was a difficult decision, one that Basil didn't take lightly. Pledging her alliance to some strange man in return for supplies and protection seemed a little risky…but Bellamy was obviously an influential man. There were already _at least_ a dozen others on his side, and if he went around promising everyone all sorts of benefits then there would be many more to join him before the day was over. Refusing his offer might totally screw her over in the long run, and that was the last thing Basil wanted. She was looking out for herself, _only_ herself, and that was how she had to think in order to come to a decision.

In her mind, Bellamy Blake was looking like a necessary evil.

On one hand, he was just about everything she despised in a person, but even more specifically a leader. He was arrogant and strong-willed and, if she had to guess, used to getting his own way. Put a man like that in power and there was no telling what might happen. Not to mention the fact that he already had who knows how many mindless zombies trailing after him, holding onto his every word and proudly sporting 'VOTE BLAKE' badges on their puffed out chests.

On the other, if Bellamy _was_ leading things and he did want Basil on his side as badly as he claimed, to accept his offer would be to secure her position. She would be virtually untouchable, so long as he made good on his word.

Was that enough to convince her?

"Alright, Blake." Basil gave a slow nod, heart thundering in her chest.

 _God, please don't let me be making a mistake._

"Alright?" Questioned Bellamy, looking mildly surprised. "You're in?"

"I'm in." Her voice came out strong, confident. Her insides felt like jelly.

"And in return, you want…?"

"All of it." Basil said simply. "Protection. Power. Supplies. Anything less and I walk away now, without looking back. _You_ need _me,_ Bellamy. Not the other way around."

"You sure about that, darlin'?"

To prove her point, Basil spun on her heel and began to walk away without a second thought.

Bellamy lunged after her immediately, one of his large hands coming down to wrap itself around her wrist, the other resting on her hip as he spun her back around to face him. When Basil looked up at him, her face was impassive, void of all emotion aside from the slight glint in her narrowed hazel eyes.

"Do I look like I'm in the mood to play games with you, Mr. Blake?" She asked calmly, raising one eyebrow in question, daring him to push her further.

Basil wasn't _truly_ bothered by his playful words, but it was all about appearances.

"Alright, alright." Bellamy nodded, the playfulness gone from his face now. "Point taken. Whatever you want, it's yours. Within reason."

Basil pointedly pulled herself away from him, taking a few nano-steps backwards so that they were no longer touching, but still close enough that she could thrust her hand out towards him. An act of comradery, a way to seal the deal. They'd each stated their terms and now it had come down to accepting them.

"That's all I ask." Basil assured him. "For now, anyways."

To no one's great surprise, Bellamy accepted her open-ended ultimatum with a smile, and the two of them shook on it.


	3. Chapter 3

_Anyone who is reading this chapter without re-reading the previous one, please do so and note the changes that have been made for the better of the story :)_

 **Three**

Basil had no sooner solidified her alliance than she found her loyalty being put to the test. One moment she was negotiating terms and shaking hands and in the next she found herself standing between Bellamy and Octavia Blake, facing off in a heated battle against those that Bellamy so affectionately called 'the privileged.'

The privileged in question were one Clarke Griffin and Wells Jaha, the poster children for 'Alpha Station's Most Prestigious.' Basil had seen them frequently on the Ark, but the only time she had interacted with either was during the few hours she and Wells spent together during the school day or when she was interning on Medical beneath Doctor Griffin, and Clarke was her fellow apprentice. She wouldn't go so far as to call either one of them her friends, but she didn't despise them, not the way Bellamy and Octavia seemed to.

"We need to find Mount Weather." Wells was saying, his gravelly voice eerily reminiscent of the Chancellor. "You heard my father's message. That has to be our _first_ priority."

"Screw your father!" Snapped out Octavia. Not for the first time, Basil silently admired the other girl's fiery spirit. "What, you think you're in charge here? You and your little Princess?"

Basil cast a sideways glance at Bellamy, who was standing just a few feet away. He responded as easily as if she'd called his name aloud. That dark gaze met hers once more and in it, Basil could see Bellamy's anticipation. This was what he had been waiting for. This was the opposition he craved, this was how he was going to assert himself.

"Do you think we care who's in charge?" Clarke gave Octavia an annoyed once-over before she turned her attention towards the rest of the group. "We need to get to Mount Weather not because the Chancellor said so, but because the longer we wait, the hungrier we'll get and…"

That was where she lost Basil.

It was all too easy to see where Clarke was coming from. There was logic behind her thoughts, no doubt about it. If what the Chancellor said was true and this Mount Weather had supplies, it made sense that they should try and find it. Bellamy had spoken about the Ark sending down the basics that they would need to survive, but how long could that last when there was nearly one hundred of them to ration it out amongst? Finding Mount Weather made sense. If Basil was calling the shots, that was exactly what she'd suggest doing first.

Bellamy's judgement was too clouded by his hatred of the Ark and all that it stood for to listen to anything even remotely logical. Had it been anyone other than Clarke and Wells suggesting this trip, then maybe he would have taken it into consideration. As it was, he wasn't going to take orders from _anyone_ , let alone the son of the Chancellor and the daughter of the Ark's most well-known doctor. 'The privileged' didn't control their lives, not anymore, and there were enough bitter delinquents in camp to back up his thought process.

Basil felt torn. She _knew_ that going to Mount Weather was the smartest option and yet she couldn't bring herself to betray Bellamy, not so early on in their little alliance. Although she didn't care for him very much, Basil wasn't the type that made a habit of breaking promises. She'd given him her word and she would stand by it until Bellamy gave her a reason worthy of doing otherwise. Whatever kinship she may feel towards Clarke and Wells considering they came from the same place -which was very little to begin with- was outweighed by her loyalty to their soon-to-be Rebel King.

"What's this ' _we_ '?" Asked Basil loudly, cutting into the middle of Clarke's rant about ' _if we leave now, we'll make it by nightfall._ '

"I'm with Basil." Bellamy agreed immediately, raising his voice loud enough that anyone within a few feet would be able to hear him. "You two go. Find it for us. Let the privileged do the hard work for a change."

There was a chorus of 'yeah's from the surrounding delinquents. They whooped and hollered their agreement eagerly. It wasn't surprising, considering how easily Bellamy seemed to speak to them. Each sentence was packed full of raw emotion, his voice strong and clear and rising with every word that he spoke. And the rest of them, the delinquents, were so unused to having someone fighting _for_ them that they turned into putty in Bellamy's hands.

"You're not listening." Argued Wells. "We _all_ need to go."

"Look at this, everybody…" Drawled a guy that Basil didn't recognize. His voice was low and full of an intense, mocking sort of loathing that immediately set off a warning bell inside of her head. "The Chancellor of Earth."

As the two of them lunged for one another, Basil turned away and wondered why she seemed to be the only one who could separate their hatred of the Ark from their feelings towards the privileged delinquents. Maybe because she, too, was technically one of the 'privileged'? She'd grown up between Alpha Station and Mecha station, although it was no secret which she preferred. The only reason they'd even lived on Mecha was because of her mother's status as a guard and council member. Was it that little bit of bias that came with her parents' status that let Basil separate her feelings into neat categories instead of blurring the lines as everyone else seemed to do as they saw fit?

Or was it just the fact that she actually did her _own_ thinking, instead of letting someone else do it for her?

Either way, Basil knew it wasn't right for Clarke and Wells to be preyed upon simply because of things that were beyond their control. And while she didn't necessarily care for Wells, Basil had enough brain power to realize that he didn't _choose_ to be the son of the Chancellor. Just like Clarke didn't _choose_ to be the daughter of a famous doctor and scientist. They were simply trying to make the best of the hand they'd been dealt. They were trying to do what they thought was the right thing.

But, of course, Basil couldn't say any of this aloud.

Maybe it was wrong of her to keep these thoughts to herself. Had she spoken out against Bellamy and sided with Clarke, it certainly would have been the _right_ thing to do. And yet, what would that have gotten her? Clarke's appreciation, but Bellamy's resentment. And then Basil would be right back to square one, without protection or supplies or any of the other 'perks' that came with being one of Bellamy's friends in low places. Only, this time around, she also would have gained an enemy on Earth and that was the last thing Basil needed right now.

As much as she wished this were a simple battle of right versus wrong and good versus bad, there was so much more to it than that. It didn't come down to doing what was _right,_ it came down to doing what was _smart._ It was time to pick and choose her battles carefully because Basil was in this for the long game. The choices she made now would affect the rest of her time on Earth. Did she really want to make the wrong ones?

It was a lot like writing a book. This was just the beginning, and Basil was just now setting the scene. Introducing the main characters. There was a little bit of conflict, a little bit of decision making, but she doubted this would be the end of the Clarke and Bellamy power struggle. The time for character growth would come _later,_ after she'd figured out what her role here was.

"Some fight, huh?" Asked a quiet voice to her left.

Basil glanced over absently, almost reflexively, before turning her attention back towards the brawl that was taking place in front of her. For a few seconds she watched, her mind processing the words that had just been spoken to her, processing the voice and the face and the mischievous glint in a pair of chocolate-brown eyes. And then, with a sharp intake of breath, her hazel gaze snapped back towards the man standing beside her.

 _Now this,_ Basil thought to herself, _**must**_ _be a dream._

Standing there, in all his glory, was her long-time best friend and confidant, Nathan Miller. Bigger than she remembered, both broader and older, and with a head that had been shaven neatly beneath his black beanie rather than sporting the messy, black mop that she was used to, but it was still _him_. There was still the same mischievous glint in his eyes and his lips were quirked upwards in his signature smirk, one that had always sent a thrill tingling down her spine.

A pang of something -longing, maybe- burned through Basil's chest like wildfire at the sight of him. It was as if all the oxygen had suddenly been sucked out of the room and she found herself struggling to catch her breath. Simultaneously, it was as if a huge weight had been lifted off of her chest. As if a piece she hadn't even known was missing had been put into place and all was finally, _blissfully_ right in the world.

"Nate?" She asked, not entirely sure that she wasn't imagining the whole thing.

"Hey, Baze." He smiled down at her and reached out, wrapping an arm around Basil's shoulders in order to pull her into his side before allowing his gaze to flicker back towards the fight. "Glad to see you made it down in one piece."

Basil couldn't think of a satisfactory response, and so she simply continued to stare up at him silently.

No one really knew how or why the two of them had fallen so hopelessly into best friendship so many years prior. They were, after all, complete opposites. Basil was sarcastic and confrontational and always guarded, whereas Miller was warm and friendly and always gave people the benefit of the doubt. There was an old saying, _"opposites attract",_ and the two of them were living proof of the truth behind those words.

They'd first met at a prestigious event on Alpha station that they, as the children of well-known guards, had been forced to attend. It was some sort of party, a celebration for a retiring guard or something along those lines. Basil had been sitting off on the sidelines, looking and feeling unimpressed with the whole shebang, when Miller approached and said something derogatory about the strange music. In response Basil had cracked a joke at the expense of the Chancellor, and from then on they were inseparable.

Until the day came that they'd both gotten arrested, of course.

There was so much guilt and regret and longing that had plagued Basil's mind and heart for the last nine months. All of those feelings overwhelmingly came back to the surface and she found it difficult to even look up at Miller, let alone speak to him, without her heart constricting and her palms growing sweaty. Basil felt just as she had every single day for the last nine months; as if she were holding her breath waiting, waiting for some sort of confirmation that things were okay. That _they_ were okay.

Part of her hated him for eliciting such a response. A strongerpart of her loved him for exactly the same reason.

The weight of Miller's arm around her shoulders as he gave a gentle squeeze eased Basil's conscious only slightly, but that didn't stop her from leaning greedily into the touch. Hazel eyes slipped shut as she rested her weight against his side, letting out a soft, contented sigh.

It was all too easy to forget about everything that was going on around her. She forgot about the fighting, she forgot about the power struggle between Bellamy and Clarke, she forgot about the barrier between privileged and underprivileged, and she forgot all about the fact that she was supposed to be fulfilling the role of Basillissa Vincetti, renowned criminal, rather than that of plain old Basil, a simple teenage girl who wanted nothing more than to melt into her best friend's arms and stay there for all of eternity.

Basil was only drawn from her thoughts and her admittedly silent reunion with Miller by the sound of a hundred voices whining as the fight was broken up.

Finn Collins stood in between Wells and the other guy, looking as menacing as he possibly could with that pretty-boy face of his. Whatever he said to the guy -Basil couldn't hear him over the sound of the complaining- was enough to bring the fight to an abrupt end. Almost as quickly as they'd gathered, the delinquents were dispersing once more. Now that the entertainment was gone, so were they.

From the looks of things as the crowd dispersed, Clarke had decided to take Bellamy's advice and find the mountain herself. It wasn't surprising, knowing Clarke. She was the insufferable overachieving type that always put forward one-hundred and ten percent regardless of the task. And with that sort of ambition rarely came failure. It was something that had driven Basil crazy while the two of them were apprenticing together. No one could measure up to perfect Clarke Griffin, no matter how hard they might try.

It wasn't long before Clarke was approached by Finn, who seemed intent on joining her little exploration. And once one jumped on the bandwagon, more followed in suit. They were joined by a few more kids that Basil didn't recognize and whom she hardly spared a glance towards. She had to say, the most surprising member of the group and the only one that she paid any sort of attention to was Octavia. Apparently, the girl had forgotten just how hard she had been fighting them on the subject just a few minutes prior.

Basil pulled away from Miller then, collecting herself once more. Now wasn't the time for heartfelt reunions, although a small part of her certainly _wished_ it was.

"What are we going to do about that?" Asked Basil, glancing over at Bellamy who was watching the departing group with an impassive look on his face.

"What are we going to do about _what_?" Bellamy turned his head a fraction to the side, and glanced at her. His darkened gaze flickered between her and Miller for a few moments before coming to rest finally and firmly on Basil.

"Clarke Griffin." She said simply, surprised that he needed clarification.

"What about her?"

"Are you honestly that dense, Bellamy? She's _smart._ And she's got good intentions, whether you want to believe it or not. That paired with her annoying persistence means trouble for anyone -aka, _you_ \- that goes against her."

"I'm not worried about the princess." Bellamy said with that arrogant smirk that grated on Basil's nerves.

"Yeah, and Caesar wasn't worried about Brutus, was he?" She countered.

"Why do you _care,_ Basil?"

"I _care_ because I'm kind of banking on you taking control down here." Basil reminded him. "If Clarke and Wells run the show, nothing's going to get done. It's going to be exactly as it was on the Ark, and I didn't come down here to live my life in chains, Bellamy."

"They aren't threats. No one's going to side with the privileged."

"Really? Last time I checked, your sister just ran off with a group of the _privileged._ "

As Basil had known they would, her words struck a chord with Bellamy. He scowled down at Basil with loathing, looking as if he were half-tempted to lay her out right then and there. There was a tic in his jaw and an angry glint in his eyes, which snapped at her like liquid fire.

"What my sister does is none of your business."

"And apparently it's none of yours, either, huh?" Countered Basil, who stood tall and firm despite the anger that was radiating off of Bellamy in waves.

"Alright, that's enough." Miller, who had been all but forgotten by this point, stepped in between the two of them. _Squeezed_ in would have been more accurate, given the fact that there were barely a few inches separating Basil and Bellamy by this point.

"Who the hell are you?" Bellamy trained his murderous gaze on Miller, who suddenly looked very small and fragile in Basil's biased eyes.

"Nathan Miller."

Bellamy's whole demeanor changed then. "You're the Chief's son."

"I am." Miller nodded. "And you're a little too close to my friend for comfort."

It surprised Basil when Bellamy backed up a few paces, although he looked reluctant in doing so. The tension in the air decreased ever so slightly, but it didn't stop Basil from glaring over at Bellamy from where she stood just behind Miller. She was half tempted to pounce once more, to prove that she didn't need _Miller_ of all people fighting her battles for her, but ultimately she decided against doing so. Maybe it was best to take a few moments and calm down, before something happened that she would later regret.

"We're all on the same side here, guys." Pointed out Miller, who was still standing between them, because apparently he didn't trust Bellamy and he _knew_ Basil and her train of thought.

"Are we?" Basil asked, glaring daggers at Bellamy.

"Things can't be like they were on the Ark." Bellamy said simply.

"And you plan on changing that, correct?" Pressed Miller.

Bellamy nodded.

"Then we're behind you." Miller vowed. "And right now you _need_ people behind you, Bellamy. Clarke is the Ark's golden girl. There's not a person down here who doesn't know her name and her story. Half of them want to kiss her, the other half want to kill her. But they _all_ know her."

"What's your point, Miller?" Snapped Bellamy, his gaze flickering from Basil's face to Miller's.

"My point is that they need to know _you_ , too." Explained Miller. "You could be using this time to sway people to your side, and we could be helping you, but instead you two are at each other's throats about trivial things that mean nothing in the long run."

"He started it!" Protested Basil.

"And I'm _ending_ it, Basillissa." Said Miller firmly. "We're on the same team here."

"You should listen to your friend, _Basillissa._ " Mocked Bellamy.

"And you should piss off, Blake." Snapped out Basil.

"Ouch." Bellamy said in a monotone. He placed a hand over his chest, right above his heart. "I'm wounded. And here I thought we were on the fast road to friendship."

"You're not my friend, Bellamy. You're a necessary evil." Basil said simply, too angry to remember that she was supposed to be sugar coating things. "I may be helping you, but that doesn't mean I _like_ it."

"Likewise, Vincetti." Bellamy replied. "I'm not too thrilled about dealing with your snarky ass, either. I'm just hoping that the end will justify the means."

"I'm glad we see eye to eye, then."

There were a few moments of tense silence as the two of them stood glaring at one another. For some odd reason, it actually made Basil feel better to know that Bellamy didn't like working with her just as much as she didn't like working with him. That he found her to be just as much of a necessary evil as she found him. It made things less personal and more business-like, which was exactly how Basil liked to operate.

"Well…now that we've covered your mutual disdain," Miller looked between the two of them wearily, with slightly furrowed brows. "I think maybe we should be covering some ground. There's what, twenty-four hours before they get back from Mount Weather? Maybe less?"

"You're right." Bellamy said with a nod, although he didn't drag his gaze away from Basil's to look at Miller.

"Then let's get to work."

"Where do we start?" Basil finally tore her gaze away from Bellamy to give their small camp a quick once-over. "There's dozens of people to convince. And, no offense Bellamy, but you're not exactly _likable_. I don't have much of an angle to go on here."

"We hit the bigger targets first." Bellamy said. "The bitter ones, the ones who openly voice their hatred of the Ark. They'll be the easiest to sway to our side."

"Like that kid who picked a fight with Wells." Suggested Basil.

"Murphy." Bellamy nodded. "I'll go after him first. If we can get his guys on our side, that'll help to influence some of the others who look up to them."

 _Who in their right mind would look up to them?_ Wondered Basil.

As if he could read her thoughts, Bellamy continued on with, "You underestimate just how much some of these kids hate the Ark. None of us grew up the way you guys did on Alpha. Most of us went to bed hungry and we were lucky if we didn't wake up orphaned. Anyone who defies the Ark and the privileged are worth looking up to down here."

Basil opened her mouth to argue, but after a sharp look from Miller, she shut it. She'd spent so long rebelling from being the person everyone _thought_ she was, that it was second-nature to defend herself in such situations. Basil would go to her grave swearing that she was from Mecha, like her father and her grandfather before her. She would _never_ claim Alpha Station as her own, just as she would never even think to associate herself with anyone that came from there.

And yet as she thought about it, Basil realized that Bellamy was right, in a way. Although she'd spent the majority of her life floating from Mecha Station to Factory Station to Arrow Station, the _lower-class_ stations, she'd never actually lived life like one of them. Basil had been raised in her father's shop on Mecha, but she'd always gone home to their cushy little apartment on Alpha. She'd never gone to bed hungry. She'd never had to worry about waking up without one of her parents. Sure, she'd picked up odd shifts in the factories and she'd tinkered in the mechanical shops and she'd gotten to know the people there, but that was barely even scraping the surface of what it meant to _be_ under-privileged.

Maybe she was, in her soul, but not in her being.

"So we should try and get the kids from Factory and Mecha." Summarized Basil, looking at Bellamy for confirmation.

"Anyone who even _looks_ like they might be our type of people. Anyone you hear talking badly about the Ark, anyone you hear questioning how things were run or how things are going to go down here."

"Sounds simple enough."

"You were in real deep with the wrong crowd on the Ark, right?" Asked Bellamy suddenly, giving Basil a curious look.

"I guess." Basil said slowly, feeling both defensive and hesitant to talk about anything involving her past. Especially with Bellamy Blake. "Why?"

"You've got to know people, then. A lot of the kids that got locked up were running with the wrong people or were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Don't any of them look familiar?"

"I wasn't really an 'on the ground' type of runner." Basil explained, giving a small shrug.

"Runner?" Questioned Bellamy.

"I ran things. Tools, medicine, weapons, ration points…" She trailed off.

"So like a transporter?"

"Yeah, kind of. We called them runners." Basil shrugged lazily. "I worked out of the vents, mainly. I was the one they called when someone else couldn't do the jobs. When it was too risky or too delicate to be handled by anyone else. I dealt with a lot of workers gone rogue or business associates, but the only time I was really on the ground and working the market was towards the end, right before I got caught."

Bellamy had the good grace to look impressed by Basil's explanation. Apparently the stories that he heard about here were either not very detailed, or the paled in comparison to hearing things first-hand. Either way, the way he was looking at her made Basil feel extremely open and vulnerable. She had a feeling that explaining the nitty-gritty details of her job on the Ark might have been a mistake.

Who knew what Bellamy might expect from her now?

"I know a lot of names, though." Basil said quickly, to divert his attention from her past. "And what they did to get themselves locked up. I just don't know faces."

"I do." Miller piped in. "I wasn't in solitary, so the rules weren't quite as strict. I spent a lot of time in the common area over the last few months. I can point out most of the people that I met in there, and others that were pointed out to me."

"Great." Bellamy seemed to have recollected himself, and his business-like demeanor was in place once more. "You two team up and tackle anyone that you know for _sure_ will join us, Miller."

"Got it." Miller said with a nod.

"What about the rest of your guys?" Basil asked, suddenly remembering the dozen or so men that had been behind Bellamy since the very beginning, before he'd recruited even her.

"They're just pawns." Bellamy shook his head. "I can't trust them with something as important as this."

"And you trust us?" Basil raised her eyebrows.

"Like you said, Vincetti. Necessary evil." Bellamy threw her earlier words right back at her, with a wry grin. "You had the best of both worlds. You got to see into the Ark's corruption _and_ the working man's life. You want this just as bad as I do. Maybe even a little more, since you give off a very strong ' _fuck the Man_ ' vibe."

"I like to think of it as more of a ' _fight the power_ ' vibe." Said Basil with an easy shrug. "But whatever floats your boat, I guess."

"We're doing this, then." Miller said. "We're sending out a big 'screw you' to the Ark and we're taking matters into our own hands. No turning back after this. We're all in?"

Basil found herself staring at Bellamy again, and she was unsurprised to find that his eyes were already on her. There was a tension between them, very underlying now but undeniable. They could hardly tolerate one another, and yet they were drawn together by their mutual distrust and dislike of the Ark and its corrupt ways. They were drawn together by their strong desire for change and new beginnings. Somehow a small bit of trust had been exchanged between the two of them now, and there was no changing their minds now.

"We're in." Bellamy said, giving her a small but meaningful nod. It plainly said 'I don't like you, but I'm trusting you.'

It was oddly a lot of pressure. Basil had known she was committing herself to Bellamy's cause, but now she suddenly found herself in the very heart of things. No longer was she simply standing by Bellamy's side as he rose to power, but she was actively fighting for him. Fighting for a guy she could hardly stand, but whom she had suddenly put all of her trust into, hoping that he would stay true to his word and give them all the new beginning that they deserved. It was a lot to process.

 _Please don't let me regret this._

Basil debated internally only for a few more moments before giving them both a large grin, despite the fact that her insides quivered like jelly and her heart was pounding against her ribcage.

"Let _Operation: Rebel King_ commence."


End file.
